


What is Black Isn't Always White

by UnveiledPassions



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Confusion, Confusion about relationship, Deception, Dreams, Inception - Freeform, M/M, Nogitsune, Nogitsune!Stiles, Physical Torture, Unconfirmed Relationship, Wolf!Derek, Wolf!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 10:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1546853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnveiledPassions/pseuds/UnveiledPassions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night was dark and the moon full, but Stiles finds himself in a warehouse. In wolf form. How is this even possible?! Stiles is not even a werewolf. It was all blurry, until another wolf came out of the darkness....</p>
            </blockquote>





	What is Black Isn't Always White

**Author's Note:**

> This gets a little confusing sometimes, but I hope you guys can keep up. I want you guys to know that this idea was completely mine, so I did not rob any of it from anyone (except the Teen Wolf where the characters originate). The idea spawns off of the Chinese idea of Yin & Yang. Complete opposites, but need each other to survive. Also, the torture is only for a minute and is not the entire plot of the fic, but just a preliminary precaution! Hope you like it!

He is sitting in a warehouse, darkness envelopes him except for one stray strand of moonlight. The floor around him is covered in dirt as if someone intentionally put it there. He looks down to find that instead of hands on his limbs, there are paws, and on them, white fur splays in a neat coat, but short enough. He sits up straighter, back curved, as if waiting for something, someone. His piercing blue eyes finally adjust to the light, and he is accompanied by another. A black wolf. Fur thick, and dark as night itself. Red eyes sitting on top of the muzzle in front of him, glare as if commanding.

But, the wolf was not commanding. He took a step forward, his paw lifting then stalking over to where Stiles was sitting, as if he was prey. He felt the urge to move. He was pulled up as if by gravity itself, circling the other wolf as if it was his nature, rhythm steady. **Thump, thump. Thump, thump.** He could hear his own heartbeat; pumping  blood through his form to the rhythm of the two wolves slowly circling….  

The roof cracked, caving in, spreading debris all over the already tainted cement floor. The boarded walls were now exposed to the moonlight, and he finally saw the true nature of his surroundings. The two wolves stopped, basking in the moonlight. _The moon is full_ , he thought. The black wolf turned to him, Stiles moved with the Alpha, he felt the need. That is when the black wolf’s eyes started to glow even more dark, sanguinary, almost. He took a bracing step forward and growled right at Stiles. His hair matted back, and he cringed with a whimper. But not in fear. In pride.

Stiles glanced at the moon, looking back down again. He stared down the Alpha with the same piercing stare that he was given. The warehouse was too dim-lit for Stiles to see it before, but the wolf had a strange patch of fur wedged between were his eyebrows would be, if wolves had eyebrows. He possessed a small patch of white fur, somewhat circular in shape. Glistening in the moonlight, the small patch of fur astonished Stiles, like when you first see yourself in a mirror for the first time, wondering if it is truly you looking back in the reflection.

A single droplet of water dripped down from the ceiling, splaying itself over his muzzle, clinging with a sort of willingness. Stiles scratched at his nose to set the drop free.

Empty. The warehouse was empty save for the two wolves, the circling had stopped, and now before Stiles’ heightened eyesight, Derek was launching himself at Stiles.

Stiles didn’t know how he knew it was Derek. A feeling maybe. Searching, Stiles finally found the reason. It was skimming the top of his rational (but maybe not so rational) mind, clouded only by thin layers of fog. The pride. It was his, because Derek is his Alpha.

Within the realization, Derek was sprawled on top of Stiles, muzzle coming closer and closer to Stiles’ fur-covered neck. He could feel an extensive intake of breath against his coat, and he shuddered. Relaxing, he let go of it all, and trusted Derek with his entire being.

_Wolves mate for life._

Opening his eyes, and sitting up he rubbed his hands against his dilated pupils in a haze of sleepiness. _Wait… hands?_ He looked down. _Yes, hands._ He brought his now-hands, away from his face studying them for a second, curling and turning them in inspection before he begun to take-in the surroundings. The rain was relentless outside, producing loud pangs on the roof above him. He sprawled his arms out around him. The soft cotton set little sparks of pleasure through his hyperactive nerve cells. He hummed, and turned to his left to pull back the cool, white sheets from the corner.

“Ahhhhh!” Stiles screamed realizing that there was a half-naked Derek Hale on the other side of his not-so-small bed. This means that the alpha was not that far away from Stiles’ body, especially a specific part of his body. Derek’s legs were tangled in the sheets, and his arms brought close to his body, like a shield. His legs fought to be untangled as he woke. He cracked his eyes, letting the moonlight that flooded the room invade his sparkling green eyes.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” Derek asked, half asleep, and eyes drooping heavily. Stiles was pretty sure that the werewolf was on the verge of unconsciousness by the looks of it. Although, pushing away the sleepiness, he sat up so that he was eye-level with Stiles.

“Derek, how did you get in here?”

“Babe, go back to sleep. I need you... I need you to be in tip-top shape for my goofy-boyfriend purposes.” Derek laid back down, opening his arms to invite Stiles to lay down in his warm arms. Stiles obliged.

 _Something is wrong_. Stiles settled into Derek’s arms, the Alpha radiating heat like a space heater cranked up to full. Derek pulled Stiles closer to him, an arm coming around Stiles to hold him, delicately like a flower.

The human placed a hand on Derek’s arm, gently stroking the softness, pushing back the hair only to smooth it back into it’s place.With a newfound courage, he pulled up Derek’s arm to sneak under it and move towards the door.

“Stiles, where are you going?” Derek seemed worried, like he was scared. Almost.

“Just going to go get water,” Stiles called back in a whisper tone, knowing Derek could still hear him. Opening his bedroom door, and stalking down the hallway quietly, he whispered quieter this time. “I’m thirsty.”

Moving slower than before, he took his steps one pace at a time, letting himself feel the rise and fall of his bare feet against the hardwood. His long sweats dragged on the floor around his feet. He lost his balance for a second, face falling quicker and quicker towards the cold ground. He didn’t hesitate to move from the uncomfortable position on the hard floor. Pushing his body upwards, his hands rested on the floorboards. Stiles used all of his strength, and heaved.

Continuing down the hall; he stopped at his father’s door, leaning towards the wood. A smell suddenly invaded his nostrils, overwhelming his senses. _Mint._ Letting his ear rest on the soft wood of the door, Stiles listened, steadying his quick, short breaths to long, even ones. He blinked, maybe more rapidly than necessary, and the smell faded from his, now, overly-sensitive nostrils.

He forgot focusing on the sounds emitting from the relatively-quiet room, and let his thoughts take him away, like the tides carrying away a forgotten gum rapper left by an unknowing child. Why was Derek in my room? He let the words spoken by the alpha linger in his mind for a moment, trying to analyze a meaning, some kind of motive for the strange situation he was in. He came up with none. No special, or hidden motives. No overt meanings came to the surface, staying under the rippling tides of his mind.

Stiles had always wanted to go to the ocean. His mother had spoken of the unrelenting tides and the way the waves crashed against the shore. He had learned about in elementary school how the full moon influenced the tides, and it had always fascinated him. He had begged his dad to bring him to the shore when he was a boy, after his mom had died his dad hadn't wanted to really go out all that much. He wanted to focus more on his work, stick his nose so far deep into it that he wouldn't have to deal with the lingering thoughts of his deceased wife.

A muffled scream brought him back to consciousness, and he barged into the adjacent room, stumbling over the threshold, and regaining his balance once he was beyond it. The figure dragged the serrated knife across his father’s chest, and another muffled scream escaped into the space around his gagged mouth. His entire body tensed from it’s tied up position on the steel chair, and relaxed a little bit when the knife released its grasp on his skin, and was left in the right hand of the assailant.  

Stiles stifled a sniffle, letting a stray tear roll down his moist cheek. “Stop, just stop.” Stiles’ voice cracked, and his face was teetering on the edge of innate sadness, and he barely let it out in a strangled whisper of words.

The nogitsune turned around, giving Stiles a smirk. His own face peering back at him under the sly gesture. The spirit turns toward him, and takes a step forward, forcing a stumbling step backward from the overwhelmed teen.

“What’s the matter, Stiles? I thought we had fun together….” The nogitsune’s condescending, yet sarcastic, tone made Stiles almost shuddered with fear; he knew the feeling this time. The nogitsune dropped the knife, made it look like it slipped from the slender fingers that matched Stiles’ to a tee. The metal knife hit the floor with a clatter.

 **Creeeeeeeeeeeeek.** Stiles spun around quickly to investigate the sound. It was probably just Derek. _Yeah, just Derek._ But, when Stiles turned back around, the nogitsune was gone, and there was no trace of his dad, not even the chair stood there in the empty cavity of the previous overwhelming room.

Stiles’ heart thumped loudly once, and then settled down when he looked over to the left a few feet. His dad was fast asleep in his warm, hospitable bed, sheet pulled up to cover half of his face. _  
_

He ran out of the room, down the stairs, and  ran straight into a wall. A warm wall. _Hmmmm, walls aren't warm…._  He ran right into Derek’s chest, only realizing when the older man grunted, and tried to steady Stiles, whose head was obviously spinning with confusion.

“Since you said you were thirsty, I thought I would get you the water myself. You weren't going to do it.” Derek sighed, holding out the glass of water to a greatly accepting Stiles. He took the glass from Derek’s hand, and drunk from the cold cup greedily, the Alpha’s hand coming up to rest on his elbow as he drank, steadying him with ease. Derek’s fingers tapped aimlessly on Stiles’ arm, no rhythm to the jittery movements. Stiles set the glass down on the counter, and sighed.

“Thank you. I feel much better now, Der-...” Stiles looked up to find that Derek was now replaced by the nogitsune. His hands transformed from the bulky, worn out ones to the softer, more slender ones he knew as his own. A smirk appeared in his face as the nogitsune saw the look of pure terror on the human’s face. The being wrapped the hand that was already on Stiles around his forearm.

Stiles pulled his arm away forcefully, and took several steps back before doing a 180 degree turn, and running for the front door. He let the rain cascade down from the heavens onto his fragile existence, and just let it absorb him. He stood in the middle of the quiet street in the dark. Water poured all around him as if he was standing under a waterfall, droplets hitting his back, his face, his legs. It fell on his face and dragged down his skin before pulling away and dropping into a puddle on the hard concrete.

A faint buzzing could be heard by the weak hearing of the human. It gradually became louder, and louder. It rung his ear drums till no end, and his ears practically vibrated with the humming. It was a growl. A very deep one at that. He turned towards the direction in which the growl was coming from, a pair of sanguinary eyes met his gaze.

He woke up screaming at the top of his lungs, out of breath, and he was suddenly glad that his father had already left for work. He doesn't remember anyone coming over last night, especially a werewolf. The window was open all of the way, letting the summer breeze be sucked into the room without remorse. The white sheets were upturned on the opposite side of his bed, his dark shadow cascading down on that side when he leaned in the direct path of the sunlight.

Leaning down, he grabbed a hold of one of the pillows, taking a long sniff and pondering for a moment. The smell had a tiny mint undertone to it, amber masking it, and evergreen just smothering the entire thing. He let the nostalgia overtake him with the inhale of the familiar scent. It was a smell that faintly reminded him of old leather worn out till it became tacky and sticky to the touch. He knew that smell only one place….

 _Derek._  

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys picked up the little hints at real things from the show. If you guys like this kind of writing, make sure to let me know so that I can do more of it! xx


End file.
